They had to be close to the top. Had to be. The ground had stopped shaking, but rock still fell all around them. Behind her, there was a great crash, a shift of rock, and she slipped as the stairs fell away.
She screamed, caught her footing and propelled herself to the next step.
“Faster,” Simon shouted about the noise.
She sent up another silent prayer. Please, let something go right. Don’t let this godawful hunk of rock be our tomb.
They turned the corner, and Simon’s light reflected off the silver crystal door.
They were at the top, and the door was still open. Finally, something had gone their way.
Thank you.
Quickly, they crossed the threshold. The water was up to her knees. The outer cave wasn’t faring any better than the inner one.
A piece of granite as large as her head brushed her shoulder and crashed into the water next to her. The whole place was coming down. She tugged the Eye of Artemis free and the door slid shut as smoothly as if the cave wasn’t falling in around them.
She and Simon waded deeper into the water.
A familiar fin split the surface. Veronica froze. She’d been pushed around, threatened, almost crushed, and she could not deal with this shark. Not now.
“It won’t hurt you. Go.” Simon shouted over the noise.
She dug in her feet. She’d give the beast a minute, and maybe it would go away. As it was, she was so drained that every breath was a struggle.
“If you stay, you’ll die,” Simon said, and he shoved her into the water.
Grabbing the wall, Veronica’s first impulse was to swim back, but intelligence overrode instinct, and she swam for the opening.
Simon pulled himself along the opposite wall.
She watched the fin pass by her and pressed her back into the rock, sure it would attack. But it slipped by and headed toward Simon.
Blood in the water.
“Simon. Look out!”
As quickly as the shark came in to attack, Simon’s ten-inch knife was in his hand. The shark dove and Simon went under as well. There was a thrashing, and for a moment, she thought Simon was dead and a white-hot fury erupted in her. A raging anger that gave her strength.
She kicked and swam toward the commotion. She and Simon had come too far to die because a million-year-old product of evolution didn’t have the brains to get the hell out of a collapsing cave.
If Simon was dead, she’d kill the shark, she vowed. Make it pay.
Simon bobbed to the surface, and Veronica pulled harder with her arms. A very much alive shark swam past her, brushing her side as it went to the opposite side of the cave.
She reached Simon. “Are you okay? Did it bite you?”
“I’m good. It tried, but it’s damned small.” He flashed his light over the water, searching for the blue.
“Too bad it doesn’t know it,” Veronica said. “I’m betting it’s really pissed off, too.” Still on her adrenaline high, she pushed Simon ahead of her. For once, he didn’t argue.
“Yeah?” Simon said. “I’m not exactly thrilled with the situation.”
Veronica watched for the fin as they swam for the opening, but the blue wasn’t showing itself. Simon dove into the hole.
Veronica took a deep breath and followed, feet first, pushing her self backward with the knife in her hand. There was no way she was letting the shark sneak up on her.
She squinted into the receding darkness.
The shark swam into the hole with the speed of a snake, and for a beat, all Veronica saw were rows of teeth and cold, black eyes. Her nightmare had come for her.
Then she screamed, bubbles rising from her mouth as she lashed out with her knife, striking the blue on the nose.
It thrashed, trying to get at her, and she lashed out repeatedly even as Simon pulled her forward by her feet.
When she opened her eyes, she was in the Mediterranean and the sky was still dark overhead. Simon bobbed beside her.
“Where’s the shark?” she said, frantic to know. Waiting for it to complete the nightmare and grab her by the feet.
“Don’t know,” Simon replied. “I think it swam off. You scared the crap out of it.”
“Ditto.” Fear made her hands tremble, and it took three tries before she sheathed her knife. “Let’s get to the boat before it decides it wants a rematch.”
Veronica reached the boat first and helped Simon up the ladder.
Adrenaline and willpower had kept the pain of Simon’s wound at bay, but now that they were safe, he collapsed on the deck. She couldn’t blame him. She felt the same way.
She fell beside him, rolled over to her back and stared at the night sky. It was beautiful.
For five minutes, she didn’t want to think about death or sharks or Michael. She wanted to close her eyes and forget she ever heard about the Midas Stone.
When Veronica opened her eyes, the sky was just starting to show the first signs of light.
Shirtless, Simon sat on the deck next to her. His shoulder was bandaged with what appeared to be his ripped up T-shirt, and he wore clean shorts. His feet were bare.
She was still in her wetsuit. She sat up, yawning. “How long was I asleep?”
“About two hours.”
“Why didn’t you head back? We need to get you to a hospital.”
He leaned against the railing. “And tell them what? They’d have to report a gunshot wound, then we’d have the authorities after us. Again.”
She nodded toward his shoulder. “Will that be okay without professional attention?”
“I’ll be fine,” Simon assured her. “The bullet went clean through.”
Eww.
“I’ll heal,” Simon said confidently.
She smiled in relief, more grateful than she could say that Simon would be okay.
Automatically, she reached behind her to remove Lily from her back holster but stopped when her hand met air. “Lily?” she asked, her voice breaking, her heart not wanting to believe what her mind already confirmed.
“Under the towel,” Simon said, compassion in his eyes.
Slowly, Veronica pushed aside the oversize yellow terry towel that was on the desk next to her.
Gleaming in the morning light was her shotgun. The one piece of equipment she knew she could count on. Her good-luck talisman. The symbol of who she was.
Now, solid gold, and never to be shot again. Veronica ran her hand up the barrel, and her eyes teared. “Oh, Lily,” she said, wiping her eyes, hating that she was crying in front of Simon. It’s just a shotgun, she told herself. She could buy another.
But the self-assurances didn’t help, and she couldn’t stop crying. “Crap.” She looked over at Simon with weepy eyes. “You probably think I’m dumb. It’s just a gun.”
Lily…and Michael. Gone forever.
He moved over on the bench. “Come here,” he said tenderly.
Still crying, she went to him and let him comfort her, let him stroke her hair and murmur that it would all be okay as she sobbed on his shoulder.
When her tears subsided to hiccups, she sat up and ran a hand over her hair, knowing she was a soggy, red-faced mess. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed.
“Don’t be,” Simon said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Thanks,” Veronica sniffed.
She and Simon sat in silence, watching the sun rise over the water. Finally, Simon picked up his dive bag. It was weighted down with the Midas Stone. He made no move to hand it to her. “You realize that once word gets out about what we have, we’ll be famous. We won’t have a peaceful moment for a very long time.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and saw Michael’s face.
Simon was right. Peace would be a long time coming.
“I have no idea how it works,” Alyssa said, handing Veronica her written report. “I ran every test I could think of and came up with nothing. As far as I can tell, it’s a rock. The material is close to obsidian, but I’m not even sure that’s righ
t.”
Veronica handed the report to Simon. She had hoped Alyssa could figure out the science behind the Stone, but it was almost as enjoyable seeing her sister stumped.
Alyssa was never stumped.
“Watch this,” Alyssa said to Simon. Taking an apple from her desk drawer, Alyssa rolled it across the desk. “Veronica, can you transmute that, please?”
Veronica sighed and picked up the Stone in her left hand, flinching as it seemed to burn into her skin. The pain never got any better. In fact, she swore it grew worse with each successive use of the Stone.
One thing that remained consistent was the rate in which the Stone sucked energy from her body. She and Alyssa had soon figured out that it was all based on the size of the object she was trying to change to gold. With something as small as a piece of fruit, it wasn’t too much of a problem. But changing Michael to gold, even inadvertently, had almost killed her. And God help her if she tried something bigger.
She remembered what the Stone did to Deacon, and now she knew why. Once her adversary tapped into that kind of energy and attempted to transmute the Temple from stone to gold, he was unable to pull away—much like sticking his hand in an electrical outlet.
She shuddered, remembering how he had collapsed in on himself.
“Veronica? Is there a problem?” Alyssa asked.
“No.” Focusing the energy that was almost tangible now, she reined it in and touched the apple. It turned to gold as if it had never been anything else. She set the Midas Stone back in its box and rubbed her hand.
It still burned.
“See that?” Alyssa said, pointing to the golden apple. “Somehow, the energy is focused through her hands, allowing the Stone to tap into it and transmute the material. We’ve done a few experiments, and she can control it to some extent. Keep it from turning the desk under the apple from turning to gold, but as to how it taps her energy?” Alyssa picked up the Stone with a manicured hand, surveyed it then set it back. “I have no idea. Not without that catalyst.”
Simon set the report down on the table. His arm still in a sling, he leafed through it one-handed. “Are you saying it’s magic?”
Veronica snickered, knowing how Alyssa would react to such a suggestion.
Alyssa glared at her and frowned at Simon. “Of course not. I’m saying that it’s beyond our ability to determine how it works.”
“Then it is a gift from the gods,” Simon said, egging her on.
“Are you sure you’re a scientist?” Alyssa’s frown deepened. “I’m saying that whoever created it knew something we don’t and that knowledge died a long time ago. Or they discovered it by accident and were never able to duplicate it.” She crossed her arms as if satisfied by the conclusion. “That’s the more likely case. Otherwise, we’d have more of these things floating around.”
“That’s not much help,” Simon said. “Maybe if we research more on the mythology…”
Veronica tuned them both out. Did it matter if they figured out how the damned thing worked? She’d been struggling with the Stone’s existence and her own part in Michael’s death since they came home. Asking herself if it was worth the sacrifice.
Once she published her findings, she’d have what she wanted. Her colleagues would be forced to acknowledge that she wasn’t a crackpot. Joseph and Chris would also get the same overwhelming recognition. She’d be famous. Her reputation as an archaeologist would be assured.
She’d have everything she ever wished for. Sacrificed for.
Which made destroying the Stone that much harder.
“Simon?” she said.
“Yes?” The animated excitement died from his face as he saw her expression. “What’s wrong?”
“About the Stone.” She took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to like her decision, but she hoped he’d agree to it. If not, she’d do what she had to, anyway. She took another breath, unable to believe she was going to say the next sentence. “We have to destroy the Stone. Get rid of it. We can’t even publish our findings. The Stone’s very existence could send the world into an economic tailspin, and then there’s the whole issue of the government cracking its secret.” She knew she was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “It could be used as a weapon. And if the government doesn’t discover the secret, it might want to use me to help. I can’t—”
“I know,” Simon interrupted her.
“You know?” She repeated the comment, confused.
He raised a familiar eyebrow and her heart skipped as she remembered how she almost lost him on the stairs.
“I had the same thoughts,” Simon said. “When I talked about never having peace, I meant you. Not me. If you publish, you’ll never be free, and I guarantee you that you’ll never go out in the field again.” His expression softened, and he took her hand in his, his thumb stroking the calluses that proclaimed her profession. “I’m only sorry that we can’t use it to prove your theory.”
“Thanks.” Relief flowed through her, and she smiled in both her body and soul for what she thought was the first time since their return. “I’m sorry, too, but I’m not the first scientist who’s been called a crackpot, and I won’t be the last.” She shrugged. “It’s part of the game.”
“True,” he agreed, looking contrite.
“I’ll just have to keep searching. There’s something else out there. Other sites. Other artifacts.” Her smile broadened as she thought about the possibilities. “Ones that don’t threaten all mankind.”
He grinned in return.
She wrapped her arms around him, being careful of his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. Simon was a good man. Strong. Loyal. And with his priorities in order.
So not like Michael.
His arm tightened around her, making her feel safe. She was okay with that. They were a team. They were lovers. She could trust him to keep her safe, and he could trust her to do the same.
Unfamiliar tears welled in Veronica’s eyes.
“How do you two plan to get rid of it?” Alyssa interrupted, her voice soft.
Kissing Veronica’s neck, Simon released her. “I have an idea about that.”
“I figured you might.” Veronica rubbed away the tears with her knuckles. What was it about Simon that made her cry?
“I know a great camping spot up in Vermont,” Simon said. “We could take a long weekend. Sleep under the stars. Remember what it feels like not to get shot at, almost drowned, beaten or attacked by killer sharks.”
Veronica grinned. “I like the idea, but what about the Midas Stone?”
“You ever skip rocks?”
Her grin broadened. “Not in a long time, but I have the perfect one to practice with.”
Chapter 19
“Let me see that again,” Veronica said, trying to snatch the check from Simon.
Simon closed the door to the Sotheby’s auction office and held the check over his head, trying to make her jump for it.
She crossed her arms instead. “If you’re going to be that way, you can just forget it.”
With a laugh, he handed it to her.
The final sale—the sale of the golden apple—was complete. It was the first piece of fruit she’s transmuted in her sister’s lab, but afterward, she’d had Alyssa go to the grocery store and fill a basket with everything from bananas to man-goes. Then she’d spent the afternoon transmuting the produce, despite the fact that the process would leave her drained.
It had been worth it. Now she was able to pursue archaeology sans investors, and if people wondered where the golden fruit came from, then Sotheby’s would send them away.
She kissed the ink on the check, glad that the famous auction house had taken them on despite the stipulation that she and Simon were to remain anonymous.
The additional three percent commission probably hadn’t hurt.
As for the codex and the Eye, she’d done the honorable things and had Rebecca mail them both, making sure they could not be tracked back to her. She smiled at the irony
of making both parties sign for the return of the artifacts.
The Vatican police were sure to be surprised. As for Fakir…she wasn’t sure what would shock him more—the return of the Eye or the investigation that was sure to follow since she had anonymously alerted the Turkish Antiquities Authority about his illegal archaeological possessions.
“Happy?” Simon asked.
“Yeah.” She was. Mostly. Money couldn’t buy some things, like her reputation or the return of Chris’s life.
But the money helped. She had asked Simon if he would split the proceeds of the various sales with Joseph and Chris’s widow, and he’d agreed without even a hint of hesitation.
She knew he would.
Thoughtfully, she rubbed the paper between her fingers. The check represented power and money—they were Michael’s downfall. She’d make sure they weren’t hers. She’d lived the lesson, watched those desires destroy someone she cared for.
It was a lesson heeded.
“You’re too quiet. Feeling all right?” Simon asked.
“Just thinking,” she said.
“About Michael?”
Was she that obvious? “Does it bother you?”
Simon smiled tenderly at her, shaking his head. “You loved him for a long time. If you didn’t mourn him, I’d wonder what was wrong with you.”
“Thanks.” Veronica slid her hand into Simon’s, interlocking her fingers with his. He was a good man. She wasn’t sure what would happen now that he was healed and the Stone was gone.
Once the check was deposited and split four ways, he could go anywhere he wanted.
But she hoped he’d stay.
“Veronica?”
“Yes?”
“Have you given any more thought on going back to the Temple?” He stroked her hair with his free hand, letting the dark strands slip through his fingers.
She leaned into his touch. Excavating the Temple was tempting, and the archaeologist in her wanted to return. She met Simon’s eyes and saw the same desire in his dark, steady gaze. The Temple was the find of a lifetime. Hell, two lifetimes. And they both lived for the thrill of discovery.
But her emotional wounds were still to raw to even contemplate returning.
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